Her CEO Stalker and Her Second Chance Mate Chapter 15

Briar

Waking late the next morning, I forced myself to assess the house once more, and by midday, I had gained the courage to tentatively venture outside. The scenery was exquisite, my breath catching, as I viewed the valley below. A part of me yearned to investigate, the other part was too scared to budge. My bravery in my escape was now riddled with my fear of exposure. My eyes were drawn to a garage off to the side of the house, and I forced my feet to move towards it. Pushing open the doors, my heart clenched, as Uncle Jake’s bike and an old Chevy truck stood before me. My eyes glanced around, tools strewn about, and other junk was piled up all around. I stroked my hand along the bike’s fuel tank. How many times had Uncle Jake taken me for a ride? Countless. I could feel the freedom and the safety as I gripped his jacket, winding down country roads. Mama never told him no once she deemed me old enough. When Uncle Jake came to town, she always took a back seat, and let him spoil me with rides or hikes or whatever time he had to give. I shut the garage and wandered down a path I had noticed in the treeline.

A short hike later, I found a pristine pool of water, fed by some underground spring. I leaned over dipping my fingertips in. It was cool, but not so chilly that I’d die of hypothermia. I don’t know what came over me, but I found myself stripping off my clothes, then slowly stepping into the water.

Shivers ran down my spine as my toes sunk in and I waded up to my thighs. The next thing I knew, I was sinking into its depths, my hair momentarily suspended on the surface, until I fully submerged. I held my breath, counting until my lungs burned. I surfaced, gasping and shivering, before I made my way out, gathering my clothes and dashing back to the house naked. Digging through a hall closet, I found a towel. I dried my body and my hair before wrapping it up in a towel. I dug through my bag grabbing my Tweety Bird shirt and a pair of boy short underwear. At least I had a fresh source of water so I could wash myself and things.

Making my way into the kitchen, I began opening the cupboards, looking for any form of food. Ramen, some cans of soup and veggies, rice that had weebles, which I immediately tossed outside into the trash, and some basic seasonings. I braced myself before opening the fridge, finding it cleaned out and empty. Someone had come over after Uncle Jake passed and had at least cleared out the perishable food that would have rotted. Who? I wondered.

My body fell into exhaustion once again and I laid out on the couch. It was maybe six in the evening.

~~

I woke again early the next morning, watching the moon set, and the sun rise. Popping open a can of cold baked beans for breakfast, I sat on the back porch. I needed to go to town soon. Sort out the electricity and water, but I could hold out a few more days. That was about as long as the non perishable food would last me. I sat enjoying the view. I could easily live this life. The only thing that would make it better, would be a cup of coffee. I sat surrounded by nature as the sky came to life with vibrant golden hues. When the birds quieted and the sun took its throne, I took it as my sign to get to work. 

I opened up all the windows, tossing the thin curtains back, and letting in the light. The place was outdated, but I loved it, in its simplicity. The walls were bare of pictures, only a few mementos hung here and there. Digging through drawers, I found pictures of me and mom, and some with Uncle Jake, in his bedside table. Tears welled as I sifted through them. How much I wish you were here, I thought, tracing his face in one picture Mom took of my first ride on ‘Canon,’ his bike. I had wanted to learn to ride; he had always explained everything to me, but never got the chance to put me at the helm. He had wanted to buy me a bike one day, instead, I had inherited his. I didn’t know all the details of his passing. Maybe I’d learn them while I was here. Hopefully, the locals would accept me and fill me in. Maybe I’d learn some new things about the Uncle who doted on me; maybe I’d learn some things about my father, too. Uncle Jake could do no wrong in my eyes, ever since I was a kid. He had been so proud of me. I wondered how disappointed he was in me now? Letting some asshat use and abuse me; allowing him to get the upper hand. How had I been so stupid?

I sighed and moved on to the dresser, finding mostly black shirts and jeans; nothing of sentimental importance. The small closet, however, was a trove of boxes with yearbooks and pictures of a young Uncle Jake, but as I rifled through the photos, I noticed none of the other boys looked like him. Where was my father? They had been close in age, I thought. I shrugged it off, maybe my dad was older than my mother wanted me to know. I ventured into the spare room and looked over the clutter of boxes and spare parts. I didn’t have it in me to delve into this room today. I sighed. Maybe, I never would. So I popped open a can of Chicken and Stars  soup, and sipped on it as I walked, scooping up the stars onto a spoon I found in a drawer. 

The rest of the house was tidy for being a man’s house. The kitchen had its essentials. I wouldn’t know if the appliances worked until I got the power up and running. I had several acres of land here, but something told me not to stray too far from the house. Yellow eyes and wolf songs had me acting like a stupid paranoid woman. Or maybe it was the ominous CEO who had taken away my peace and serenity. All this quiet had a way of making me dissect it all, relive it all, within a realm of stoic safety. 

Two days later, I was wearing one of Uncle Jake’s tees; my jeans were filthy by now, as I popped open the hood of his pick up. Not enough light in the garage to see, so I had pushed it out, inch by inch, pausing to turn the wheel, when necessary, at the ever loving protest of my ribs.